Arcane Magic (Stella Mayweather Series)

by Camilla Chafer

  "That's what I want to know. Maybe they're in danger."

  "They could have sent their pack member to me for help," I mused. "So what now?"

  "Now we make sure we've been noticed," said Gage, his face stern as he concentrated on the twisting road. "We don't have enough time to search for this guy's pack, especially if they are making a real effort to ensure they can't be seen for what they are. If we can't find whom we want to talk to, let's make them come to us."

  ~

  It took little more than an hour for us to draw enough attention to ourselves. Gage's idea was very simple. We started by ordering takeout coffees from the Number One Diner, then visiting every store and eatery in the near vicinity. For the first ten, Gage took out the photo and asked if the servers or store assistants knew Kevin Wyatt. From the eleventh store, he shook things up a little by asking if anyone recognised the "murdered Kevin Wyatt." Each time, we were turned away with shakes of heads and a profound lack of recognition. By the time we stepped out of the twentieth store, our coffees were long gone and so was our enthusiasm. In return, we discovered two vehicles waiting for us. Each one had a driver behind the wheel, but a man also waited, leaning against the car, flanked by a couple of goons standing with their arms crossed. Clearly, they'd been waiting for us.

  "Come with us," said the man I recalled as the one who followed us the day before. He was taller and broader than I remembered, but I only got a brief look at his reflection. Now, as I looked him over, I noted he was almost as tall as Gage, and broad, his chest straining beneath the thinly-knit sweater.

  "Not without knowing your name," said Gage, sizing him up, and glancing over to the other cars. "Or what you want."

  "I think you know what I want," said the man. "You've disturbed half the town looking for Kevin Wyatt. And the name is Hal Hoag."

  "Gage Garoul," said Gage, stepping forward and extending his hand. After a moment, Hal took it, his muscles flexing as they both squeezed. "This is Stella Mayweather."

  "We know who she is," said Hal, pulling open the rear door of the first vehicle. "And we know who you are. Get in. Someone wants to talk to you."

  "I don't suppose you're going to tell me who it is?" asked Gage.

  "I don't suppose I am," replied Hal, without even a hint of amusement.

  Gage shrugged as he slid into the car, and Hal slammed the door shut just as I stepped forward. "You're in that car," he said, pointing behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know I was now flanked on both sides by the other waiting men. Gage thumped the window and yelled something, but my attention was fixed on Hal, and Hal’s on me. Separating us seemed a hostile thing to do, but I'd met plenty of hostile people and came out each time okay. I could handle myself. Plus, it seemed like arguing would be a waste of my breath. I thought the driver of Gage's car was saying the same thing as he glanced over his shoulder, his lips moving. "You're going to the same destination," Hal continued, "We'd just like to talk to Mr. Garoul alone en route."

  "Okay," I agreed, turning away. I nodded at Gage to show him I was confident that I would be okay and the two men followed me to the car. One got in the front with the driver, and the second opened the rear door, waiting until I slid in before getting in the back with me. The locks clicked shut and our car moved into the traffic, right behind the first.

  We drove out of town and I tried to keep track of our direction, but with the unfamiliar roads and numerous turns, I knew I didn't have much hope of finding my way back. However, if they planned to keep us wherever they were taking us against our will, they would be in for a surprise once I shimmered us away. Having said that, the man named Hal said they knew me. Perhaps they knew what I could do too; and without another witch to counteract my magic, I was confident of my abilities. I didn't let my confidence lull me into relaxing. Instead, I made sure I stayed alert throughout the silent drive.

  Where I lacked confidence was regarding the intentions of the man next to me as his large hand landed on my thigh, right next to my knee before he slid closer. I looked at the hand, then up at its owner, and he grinned at me. I clasped my hand over it and returned it to his own leg, trying not to roll my eyes as he and the driver smirked at each other. I ignored them both, turning to look out the window and the long line of trees we passed on the winding road.

  Once more, the hand landed on my leg, only further up, and he gave my thigh a hearty squeeze. I placed my hand over his to move it, but this time, he squeezed harder and slid his hand higher up my leg as my heart pounded with fear.

  "Move your hand," I told him in my best snarl.

  "Or what, little witch?" he spat, smirking again at the driver before returning his attention to me.

  "Or you'll regret it."

  He rubbed his hand back and forth. "How can I regret something I enjoy so much?"

  "You really aren't getting the message, are you?" I told him, wincing as he squeezed harder. I stared at his hand, focusing my energy towards the nerves. I didn't want to hurt him, but I did want to discourage any behaviour that might hurt me, so I kept the light stream of magic flowing into his nerves until he yelped and snatched his hand back.

  "What the hell?" he screeched, looking at me in alarm.

  The front passenger shifted in his seat and looked over at us, glancing from the idiot to me, and back again. "What's wrong, Oren?"

  "My hand feels like it's on fire. She's doing it! Christ, she's frying my hand," he whimpered as I kept up the pressure.

  I saw his shoulder move a fraction of a second before his uninjured hand swung at me in a closed fist. Throwing myself forward into a crash position, he missed my head, his fist bouncing off the rear of the seat.

  "Cool it, Oren," yelled the front seat passenger. "If the witch is hurt, all our heads are on the line. I knew I shouldn't have brought you with us. And you," he said, turning to me, "whatever you're doing, stop it. He won't try and hurt you again. We'll pull over and drop him off at the side of the road if he does, and let him find his own way home."

  I didn't bother to reply, but after my message was well received, I did halt the flow of magic. Oren still made a show of his hand hurting, tucking it under his armpit and sulking until we turned off the road onto a long, tarmac drive. The woods continued for a short time, then gave way to fields before we entered a parking area in front of a large farmhouse. We didn't stop there, but drove around it, halting in front of a barn where our car pulled alongside the other one. I was out of the car the moment the front passenger, and clearly, the man in charge of the trio, opened my door. I tried to stop my heart from thumping, and the sweat beading on my brow as I came to a stop next to Gage. By the flare of his nostrils, I could tell he noticed something wasn't quite right, but he didn't say anything as he surveyed the powerfully-built, six-man team.

  "This way," said Hal, leading us. He pulled back the sliding door to the barn and we stepped inside. I half expected to find animals or hay bales, but the barn had clearly been done over into a meeting space a long time ago. The walls were dry-walled and the floor tiled, but the arched roof remained, with skylights added to the rear part. There was a bar area, couches, and a cluster of tables and chairs. A dozen people, mostly men, were inside and a few shot glances at the only man sitting at the bar, so I figured whoever he was, he must’ve been in charge. He faced us, taking a drink from his beer very casually, like he had nothing better to do than hang around. He had watchful eyes though and I suspected he noted everything, right down to my shoe size.

  I nudged Gage, who already spotted the man. Hal motioned for us to follow, pointing to two bar stools at right angles to the man before moving around the other side of the bar.

  "Can I get you two travellers a drink?" asked the older man He was the same man I'd seen leading the group at the Number One Diner. He didn't seem at all perturbed that I recognised him, and instead, allowed my eyes to slide over him as he waited for an answer. He had around fifteen years on Hal, which could have been far more, given the unusual aging process. His f
ace was lined, and his hair salt-and-peppered. He was dressed in jeans and a shirt, tucked in, but open at the collar.

  "That's very hospitable of you," said Gage, taking the stool closest to the man, leaving me with the one furthest away. Protectively, I thought, but I still glanced behind me, checking to see where the testy oaf, Oren, was before I sat. "Not for us."

  "Shame. We brew our own beer. Tastes pretty good."

  "Perhaps if I'm in town again."

  "I don't imagine you will be," said the man, still in a friendly tone, but somewhat assessing. "Rockford isn't exactly a town people visit. Now, where are my manners? My name is Tobias Grigg and you are Gage Garoul and Stella Mayweather. Long way from home, ain'tcha?"

  "Yes, we are," agreed Gage, "but you have the advantage of knowing that already."

  "And what you want apparently."

  "Kevin Wyatt."

  "I like a straight-talking man." Tobias half stood as he reached his hand over to shake ours, before settling down again. "What's your interest in Kevin Wyatt?"

  "He's dead."

  "So I hear. You've told a few people that today."

  "You don't seem surprised."

  "I already knew. We've been preparing his funeral rights for when the body gets sent back."

  "Are you family?"

  "Packmaster."

  "I'm packmaster of the county where Kevin Wyatt was found."

  "I know that too."

  "So you know I'm obliged to investigate. Do you happen to know who killed him?"

  "That's a longshot."

  "The question still stands."

  "No, I don't." Tobias sipped from his tankard and turned his attention to me. "So we have a packmaster in his own right on my territory. What brings the witch?"

  "She's a friend."

  "A friend, huh?"

  "Yes."

  Tobias glanced at me. "Let her speak for herself. What's your business here, Stella Mayweather?"

  My throat was dry and I wished I'd taken Tobias up on the drink when he first offered, especially since he seemed to be in no hurry to get us off his property. So my voice croaked when I tried to speak and I figured honesty was the best policy, since there was no telling what else the old man knew. "I found Kevin Wyatt dead on my porch," I said calmly, noting the flicker of surprise on Tobias's eyelids. No, he didn't know that piece of information. "I want to know why a werewolf from so far away was at my house."

  "It's a long way for a social visit," said Tobias, keeping casual even though his question was a subtle probe as to whether I knew more than I was giving away. I decided now was not the time to mention the envelope. If Tobias didn't know why Wyatt went to my house, it was unlikely he knew what the envelope contained. That suggested our dead werewolf wasn't on an errand for his packmaster. Even without glancing at Gage, I was pretty sure he drew the same conclusion.

  "We agree," said Gage, cutting in before I could choose my next words. "Since Stella found him, and Wyatt was a wolf, I thought it was a good idea to bring her along when I came here."

  "You thought right since this seems to be official business," Tobias said in the same casual tone. His whole attitude seemed nonplussed, and it was that very casualness that ensured I remained on edge. That, and despite his admission of being packmaster, while we were apparently surrounded by a wolf pack, but I still received no sense of otherness about them. The whole thing was disconcerting.

  "We appreciate you seeing us. We would have come right away, but we didn't know how to notify you that we were in the area," Gage continued politely.

  "Not a problem. We've had our eyes on you since you arrived."

  "Then you'll know that we aren't here to cause any problems," said Gage.

  "I'd say showing Kevin Wyatt's photo to all kinds of folks could cause some problems," countered Tobias, glancing at Gage. "What is it you want to know about our pack member?"

  "We'd like to know what brought him to Wilding. Perhaps you could answer that?" asked Gage.

  That brought on a long silence, during which, we all did our best to remain casual, but I was sure I couldn't be the only one to notice the rising tension in the room. I looked around, ostensibly to take in the scenery, but really, I wanted to check for an exit in case Tobias decided we were becoming too much trouble for him. There were two routes out of the barn: one, the sliding door by which we entered; the other, diagonal to that. It was a narrow door that led off the bar and kitchenette area. The bar was covered by Hal, while the two males lingering by the sliding door, appeared laid-back, but I had no doubt they were guarding that exit.

  "I'm afraid I do not," said Tobias. "I never gave him any order to go south."

  "Do you have any ideas why he might have visited me?" I persisted.

  "That I don't know either. His visit wasn't ordered by me." Tobias tapped the top of his tankard and Hal reached for it, filling it from the tap and sliding it back.

  "I've never met Wyatt," I told them, "so I have no connection to him that I can see, but you seem to know me. Where from?"

  "From that trial of yours by your own council," said Tobias, surprising me with a direct answer.

  "I see." I should have guessed that. It was a loud and public trial that ensured my face and name were both publicly known. With different people present during each day, not to mention talking to others who weren't, I could be sure that the details were spread widely. My acquittal was something that should have accompanied those rumours. "Was Wyatt there during that time?"

  "Sure, he came with Noah Wilde's delegation, just like I did, and Hoagie here, along with a few others from our pack. We provided security throughout the delegations."

  "I don't remember seeing you," said Gage. "I was with the delegation."

  "There were a lot of us. I don't expect you remember every face, do you?" Tobias shrugged. "I know I don't. A few of the boys here kept watch outside, or around that Amethyst building. I'm sure you can confirm what I told you with your new president."

  I tried a few more questions, like if Wyatt ever mentioned me, or if he had any known issues with me, but once more, I drew blanks. I had a feeling I wouldn't get any information from Tobias, but I tried once more, anyway. "Could we talk to his family? Perhaps he mentioned something to them?"

  "There's no family," said Tobias, with a sad shake of his head. "His father died when he was a baby and his mother passed on just last year. He didn't have any siblings."

  "Who's preparing his funeral rights?" asked Gage.

  "We are, just as soon as his body is returned to us."

  "What about his friends? Or a girlfriend?" I asked.

  "Don't recall him having a girl, and all his friends are in this room." Tobias looked from us to the room, not fixing on anyone in particular. "Any of you all know why Kevin visited this witch?"

  There were some murmurs, and a lot of shaking heads, and it was all too easy to see that no one had anything to say. Even if one did, I wasn't sure he or she would come forward in the presence of Tobias. If Wyatt was running an errand without his packmaster's permission, it could be seen as working against the pack; and if Tobias ruled with little mercy, that could be fatal. Still, I decided, at least, it was apparent to all present why we were here and maybe one of them would approach us later.

  "I have another question," I said, "do you know how he traveled to see us? Or how he could have been asphyxiated without any obvious cause?"

  "That sounds like two questions," said Tobias, huffing as Hal rested his elbows on the bar and stared down at us, his work apparently finished. "First one, I don't know. His car is outside the barn and has been there since last Sunday. Second, I think you're better informed to answer any question where magic is concerned."

  "Thank you for your time," Gage said, rising and extending his hand to shake Tobias's. Tobias took it and they shook firmly and quickly. "We appreciate your time and don't want to keep you when you have preparations to make."

  Being polite, I stuck out my hand too. Tobias hesitated
long enough for me to wonder if I made an error, then he shook it. I thanked him as well and he retracted his hand quickly.

  "Hoagie and the boys will take you home."

  "In the same car?" I asked.

  "I guess."

  "I sure ain't takin' her," said Oren the oaf, lounging on the sofa as we passed by.

  "What happened to your hand?" asked Tobias, pausing and taking in the bowl of ice water Oren used to submerge his hand.

  "She did!" Oren snarled.

  Tobias looked over his shoulder at me. "Did you hurt one of my men?"

  "His hand slipped onto my thigh. Three times," I replied, hoping I sounded more casual than non-threatening.

  Tobias nodded. "Keep your hands to yourself in future, Oren," he said. "Unless you want to find out what it's like to live with just one."

  Oren shrank back, but that didn't stop him cursing me as I passed. I did the bigger thing; I ignored him.

  Outside, the day shrunk back to make way for dusk; and dozens of stars punctuated the unpolluted sky. It smelled fresh and pure and earthy out here. For the briefest moment, it made me think of Wilding. Hal slid into the car that transported Gage and the engine rumbled to life. One of the other men opened the rear door.

  "Don't take this the wrong now," began Tobias, "but I'd like you to leave my town as soon as."

  Gage arched his eyebrows. "Any reason why?"

  Tobias shrugged. "We appreciate you taking the time to visit us, but you've fulfilled your duties and we ask for no reparations. Your business here is concluded. There's no reason for you to be in our town." With that, he turned on his heel and walked back to the barn. Slipping inside, he shut the door behind him, cutting off the pool of light that illuminated the yard, leaving us in an inky half-light.

  "Let's get out of here," said Gage, taking my hand. "I think we just overstayed our welcome."

  Chapter Twelve